Just as Tate turned to his left and was about to disappear through the door, Logan reached out and took his arm. Pulling him back, so he was in the dimly lit hall, Logan stepped in to him until Tate’s back was against the wall, and he was against his chest.

Cupping Tate’s face, Logan pressed his lips to the parted ones in front of him. He was relentless in his quest to hear the answer he craved. “Do you forgive me?”

Tate reached down between them and began unbuckling Logan’s belt as he denied him once again, “No.”

Logan rested his forehead against Tate’s, as fast fingers unfastened his button and zipper.

“Tell me why I should. Give me a reason,” Tate suggested.

 “Because,” was all Logan could come up with as Tate’s hand pushed down into his pants, taking him in his palm.

“Because?” Tate repeated back to him.

“Yeah, because.”

“But you told me that because is never a good reason,” Tate reminded him as he let go of Logan’s aching skin. He slipped away, making his way into the bathroom.

Frustrated with himself for this entire situation, Logan squeezed his eyes shut and counted to thirty. He was close to finally being in control of himself when he heard the water turn on in the next room.

Oh hell. He had no chance of winning this game, and he knew it. He would do anything to hear Tate say he was forgiven, even if that meant sitting outside the bathroom while he showered, but hopefully that wouldn’t be the case.

Making his way into the tiled room, the first thing Logan saw over in the corner was the pair of jeans Tate had been wearing. He then focused on the man who was standing under the spray of water, and he felt his cock weep as he watched him run a soapy sponge all over his tanned body. When Tate then turned toward him, he dropped the sponge and lifted his hands to smooth them back through his hair, and Logan was rendered useless.

How did I ever think that I’d be the one to win this battle of wills? The man is gorgeous and stubborn, and he has the ability to bring me to my knees.

Kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants and boxers down, Logan was happy to see that even though Tate was still mad, his body was responding to him, regardless. Tate’s erection, both veiny and thick, pointed right at Logan before Tate reached down with a wet hand and stroked it while his eyes stayed on him.

Logan made his way to the glass shower door, pulled it open, and stepped inside, facing the soaked man in front of him. As the water sluiced down over Tate’s body, making his hair stick to his head, Logan couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his own hand around the blushing thick erection Tate was fisting.

Stepping forward, Logan met Tate halfway, and the second their mouths collided, every thought Logan may of had about slow and sweet went straight out the door. God, this is pure heaven. Tate’s mouth was hot and wet as it moved under his, and the noise that rolled out of him was like music to Logan’s ears.

Raising a hand to Tate’s shoulder, Logan pulled his mouth away as he ran his palm down along the smooth, wet skin and ordered, “Turn around, and face the wall.”

Tate blinked at him, and the water that was caught on his eyelashes sparkled under the bathroom lights as he sucked his bottom lip and slowly moved forward. Then, without question, he turned around.

Before Tate was even in place, Logan encroached on that perfectly bronzed back and wedged himself between Tate’s rounded ass cheeks. Loving the feeling of finally having his cock where he’d been dying to put it, he sank his teeth into Tate’s shoulder, sucking up the beads of water as he felt the spray hit his side.

Tate bucked into him, and Logan asked again, “Do you forgive me?” as he bent his knees and slid his erection up through the most toned ass cheeks he’d ever seen.

Tate’s palms flattened against the tile wall as he used it to drive back on him, telling Logan once again, “No.”

Cursing out his frustration, Logan licked his way up Tate’s neck to his ear and threatened, “Don’t you fucking move, you hear me?”

“Or else?” Tate dared to ask.

“Or else, when you want to move, I won’t let you.”

Tate turned his head and looked back at him, “Is this how you ask for forgiveness by being a bossy, mean—ohhh…”

Tate’s words stopped on a groan as Logan dipped his knees again, sliding his rod against him.

“No. This is me showing you with my body that you’re the most spectacular thing I have ever had against me. I’ll beg for forgiveness later. For now, don’t move.” He instructed.

Speechless, Tate nodded as Logan lowered down onto his knees and looked at the perfect ass in front of him. He reached out and cupped Tate’s cheeks, pushing them up and together, kneading the firm, wet flesh under his palms as the water hit his side and swirled down around his knees.

Tate pushed back into him, and when Logan ran his thumbs down his shadowed cleft, he looked back over his shoulder and Logan gave him his most devious smile.

“You’re not surprised, are you?”

As Logan kneeled up, sipping the water from one of Tate’s rounded cheeks, he dropped a hand down to squeeze his solid erection, and Logan bared his teeth, biting the same spot before he murmured, “I’ll take that as a no. In fact, I think you’re dying for this.”

With strong thumbs, Logan spread Tate’s flesh apart.

“Aren’t you, Tate? You want it, and you know I’ll give it to you. Let me guess. You want my mouth here”—Logan nibbled along the dark crevice of fresh wet skin—“and you want my tongue here,” he told him, and swiped his tongue across the top of his crack. “Or maybe…maybe, you want it all, just a little bit lower.”

As he teased the tip of his tongue farther between Tate’s cheeks, Tate automatically widened his legs, a gruff sound pulling from his throat. Logan chuckled against him before he sat back on his heels, releasing Tate, as he looked at the picture spread out before him, almost forgetting they were in the shower.

“God, from the minute we met, you’ve been nothing but pure fucking temptation for me.”

Tate glared back at him over his shoulder, and his eyes were as dark as Logan had ever seen them. Oh yeah. Tate was on edge, and he was frustrated that Logan had stopped.

As he knelt back up behind Tate, Logan appealed to him once more. “Do you forgive me?”

The question now became something of a quest.

This time, instead of an immediate denial, Tate’s eyebrow rose, and his lips twitched. “No.”

Logan smoothed a palm over Tate’s ass, and promised, “You will.”

* * *

Tate knew what was coming. Logan had very briefly—

Holy shit.

Okay, so Logan had never quite done this to him before. He could feel Logan’s fingers holding him apart, and unbelievably, the scratch of Logan’s stubble against his ass was incredibly stimulating. Tate reveled in all of those feelings until the warm, wet tip of Logan’s tongue grazed his rim.

Tate shut his eyes and ordered himself to relax and enjoy the—ah, fucking hell—experience. But every sure flick of that tongue made his cock painfully aware that it wanted to come.

Arching his back, Tate shoved away from the cool tiles and onto the hot mouth that was savoring him from behind as he heard and felt a groan vibrate out of Logan. This was probably the most depraved thing he’d ever done in his life, and as Logan’s tongue returned time and time again to his sensitive hole, Tate realized he loved every second of it.

Moving his legs even farther apart, he grunted when a fingertip poked against him, and as the tip slipped inside, Tate started to pump his shaft. Letting his imagination fly, he pictured the way they would look right now if anyone were to walk in on them.